He pulled my panties off and buried his nose in the apex of my thighs. Inhaling, he let out a groan of pure need. “Jesus. A man can easily get addicted to this.”
I wanted him addicted. All of a sudden I had thoughts of us free and together. But as soon as the thought came, I pushed it back. There was no need for such thoughts. This was his way of telling me goodbye. I knew it deep in my bones. And though I wanted to wail like a banshee at the injustice of it all, I decided to allow my body the pleasure my heart and mind would never know from this man.
One perfect lick through my slit and immediately his tongue was gone. In its place, one inquiring finger. He buried his mouth on my thigh and bit. Not enough to pierce the skin, but enough to bruise. He repeated the same move all over my upper thighs, still moving that thick finger inside me. He alternated between licking and biting pausing to add a second finger. The combined pain and pleasure brought me to a precipice that I wanted desperately to fall from, but knew he’d take his sweet time before I got the satisfaction.
Once he was sure my thighs would be covered in bruises, he looked up at me. “My own set of branding.” He smiled. A crooked smile. Up on the one side and down on the other. A smile so devious yet so resigned at the same time. How was that even possible? He wanted to bruise me, wanted to mark me, yet he looked resigned to the fact that this was only temporary.
I wished he would leave a permanent mark. Wished that when all this was over, he would come looking for me. But he didn’t need a permanent mark to find me. I felt owned already. No man could compare to his brand of loving. To the feeling he gave me even though I knew our time was coming to a close. If he ever came looking, he’d find the mark he left all over me, and it would not be physical.
A second finger joined the first and his mouth finally descended on my clit. He devoured me with his mouth. All the while making these half sighs, half groans that I felt deep in my core. I felt my body climbing higher, soaring and soaring. My pussy contracting with each thrust of his fingers and each suction of his mouth. And then, explosions.
Even before I could come down from it, he thrust deep inside me. “Watching you come is the single most beautiful thing.” He let out a ragged breath as he picked up pace.
I answered with something unintelligible. I could not speak. I was coming down from a high only to pulled right up again. This was what heroine addicts spoke about. This constant high, constant fever that felt oh so good. He dug a hand on the mattress, wrapped it around me and lifted then turned me till I was on top of him.
“Ride me,” he said. “I want to see those perfect tits, that perfect body moving in time with mine.”
It took a second for my body to adjust to his cock so deep inside me, then I started moving. Slowly at first then I leaned forward and picked up pace.
“Fuck! Just like that… ” he groaned, his voice guttural. The need so evident in his eyes spurred me on. He put his hands on my breasts and pinched the nipples. All I could do was mewl in response but my rhythm never faltered. I found a different angle and kept going, leaning in to rub my breasts on his chest. His eyes fluttered closed for a second and he shuddered. Oh what I could do to him.
Suddenly he pulled me down towards him till we were face to face, his legs bent at the knees. He held my ass and picked up the rhythm to an impossible speed. “I’m close baby,” he rasped and I felt my own orgasm building. I begged him to keep going. Begged him to go faster, harder, deeper. Begged till only the word “please” remained. And I repeated it over and over. I tipped forward when the pleasure consumed me and two thrusts later he joined me groaning my name.
He held me close to him, too tight, as if he was worried I’d disappear. And when I tried to climb off, he held on. “Stay right there, I want to feel you on top of me and me inside you for as long as I can,” he said, voice husky.
I held on. “Incredible.” I whispered, kissing his lips and settling on his chest. His heart was beating fast. “Davide?”
“Yes babe?”
“You could come with me.”
I hated talking about this right after I’d had the most incredible sex. But I was running on endorphins and my stupid heart hoped he’d say yes. I wasn’t ready to leave him yet. I probably never would be.
“You know I can’t,” he said already pulling away.
“I actually don’t know. You tell me nothing.”
“Look, we could spend the rest of the night arguing about this or we could hold each other and say goodbye properly.”
I huffed. I wanted him to be honest with me. I wanted to not be the only one wanting more. I wanted a clear answer from him on whether I would see him again. Whether he wanted to see me again. But they say actions speak louder than words. And though I knew I wasn’t mistaken that he felt something for me, he clearly didn’t feel enough of it.
I sat up and started dressing. He sighed, stood up, pulled up his jeans and picked up his t-shirt. Without a backward glance he was gone. And I was left with only my tears for company.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Davide went to his office, gathered up his keys and hurriedly left the building. He didn’t want to leave things the way he’d left them with Lori, but he’d had no choice. He liked her. There, he could admit at least that much to himself. But he also knew it would only end in disaster. He sighed. Tomorrow was it¸ she’d be gone. But it was for the best. He knew that.
It was almost midnight and since he’d foregone dinner, he drove towards Calle Ample to an Italian Sports Bar he loved, though hardly frequented. They had the best Napolitano pizza, and if he wasn’t going to be with Lori tonight, he might as well get a taste of home.
He ordered a salami and cheese pizza and a beer and glared at the television. An old soccer match was on but he wasn’t paying attention. He already missed her. He couldn’t believe how much she’d become a welcome presence in his life until he realized that the clock was ticking.
The pizza arrived and he ordered a second beer. He wasn’t going to allow himself to wallow in self pity. He couldn’t change his circumstances. He was who he was and she was who she was. Never would the two worlds cross. Yet he was selfish enough to indulge himself a year ago and then again now. It was as if he never learnt.
A girl was standing near the counter shouting her order. Real Italian girl, big tits, small waist, big ass. He allowed his eyes to roam her body. He needed to forget Lori, and he’d just found the way to do it. The girl finished up with her order and came directly to him.
“I think you want to buy me a drink,” she said, eyes bright, pretty pink lips pouted and those tits.
He smiled. Sometimes they were too easy. He knew women found him attractive. He took advantage of it most times. And though there was a small voice at the back of his head reminding him of Lori, he bought the girl a drink and decided to indulge her in what turned out to be extremely inane conversation. Which reminded him of what he liked about Lori. That she wasn’t just a pretty face.
Four beers later, for her, and six for him, he led her to the bathroom stall. He never took anyone to his house. Especially not one night stands and let’s be honest, that was the only kind of women he ever had. Except Lori. The stupid voice in his head whispered but he ignored it.
Once in the bathroom, the girl reached out to kiss him. Not what he had in mind. He turned her roughly towards the wall and shoved her white thong down her legs. She had a nice round ass and he took a minute to appreciate it before pulling on a condom from his pocket and shoving his dick inside her. She wasn’t wet enough and he wasn’t hard enough but he didn’t care.
He thought about sweet Lori, her mouth, her wet pussy and all of a sudden he was hard as rock. And the girl seemed to be catching up as well. He rid his mind of all thought and started slamming into her. She made ridiculous squealing noises but he hardly noticed. A few more thrusts and he came in a rush of breath.
He walked towards the paper towel dispenser, dumped the condom in a nearby trash can and pulled out some pa
per towels. He bunched them up and threw them towards her.
“Clean yourself up,” he said and left, slamming the toilet door.
Driving towards his house, he realized he felt worse than before. He put the radio on to distract himself and wouldn’t you know it, even the radio was conspiring against him. 9 Crimes by Damien Rice was on and all it did was make him feel like the shittiest asshole that ever lived. Not only did he feel as if he’d cheated on Lori, he’d also left the poor girl in the toilet with tears streaming down her face. God, he was an asshole. He never minded it before. It’s not like the girl had expected a declaration of love from a random guy who’d fucked her in a dirty toilet.
But he realized his conscience had not only reappeared, it had doubled in size. He felt, stupid, angry, lonely. Fuck Lori.
Once in his house with Damien Rice’s haunting lyrics still in his head, he headed straight to the bar. Nothing like dulling your senses. He picked up some whiskey and put the TV on. The phone chose the exact time to ring. And not just any phone, his untraceable one. Fuck.
“Any update on the girl?” the man on the other side was never one to waste time on greetings and niceties.
“Hector’s releasing her tomorrow. He couldn’t find anything tying her to New York.”
“Hmm. And you’re ready to kill her yourself then?”
“I told you she knows nothing!” Davide shouted. Exasperated.
“You need to remember who you’re speaking to.” The man was calm. And that was a threat if he ever heard one.
“She knows nothing. She can’t do anything to hurt us. She won’t. So we’ve agreed to let her go. And anyway, if Hector finds out she’s dead, then he’ll find someone to blame and by extension me for convincing him to release her.”
“You did what?”
“I convinced him to release her.”
“You really are going soft. But you’re right, Hector always wants to be a step ahead and we wouldn’t want him suspecting anything. Fine then. She lives. But if she even dares to say a word, she’ll wish Hector killed her. He’s more merciful than I’ll ever be.”
And the line went dead.
Sighing heavily, he rubbed his eyes. He hoped that Lori understood the danger of ever seeking him out again. As much as he didn’t like the thought, she had to forget him. For both their sakes.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
I woke up the next morning after a restless sleep. I didn’t allow myself to cry for too long. After all, I was getting my freedom. I could move on from this. Most people suffered abuse during captivity and the only thing I could complain about was a broken heart. I was probably being melodramatic. I didn’t love Davide. Did I?
I knew what had attracted me to Davide the first time. It was why I had come looking for him. But by the time I’d decided to come back looking for him, I’d fallen in love with him. Or the idea of him. I couldn’t explain it to myself let alone to others. Sometimes love just happened. Exploring the whys of it was an exercise in futility.
So there. I was leaving my heart in Barcelona for the second time, that I was sure of.
The door opened and in came Pedro.
“He requests you,” he said.
“Who?”
“Who do you think?”
“Right now?”
“Got somewhere else you were planning to be?” he chuckled, as if that was the funniest thing he’d heard all year. Probably was. Sick bastard.
I rose from my corner, walked towards the door and he followed me out. He led me to one of the rooms. Hector sat behind a huge table in the middle of the room.
“Here you are.” He smiled as if this was a social visit. “Have a sit.”
“I’ll stand if you don’t mind.”
“Suit yourself. So I’ve decided to believe your little story. You seem to not know much about anything so we’re letting you go. But remember this little girl, we now know everything about you, right down to your ailing grandmother in Kentucky.”
I gasped. Stupid reaction. If he was only fishing, he now knew for sure. But I doubted he was fishing. Whatever this organization was, it had resources, and Gran was not exactly a secret.
“Right then. Any peep about what happened here and we won’t be so accommodating next time,” he said maliciously. “Pedro here is going to drop you off at the hotel you were staying, The Q was it?”
I held my breath. Damn the sentimentality that brought me all the way back to Barcelona and particularly, The Q.
“We checked you in the same room you were before. Your suitcase has also been delivered. So let’s all pretend this never happened. Off you go.”
He smiled again. His squinting grayish eyes giving him a more sinister look. Shivering, I followed Pedro out. He secured a blindfold on my eyes and led me out. The cool morning air hit me first and I was suddenly very anxious to get out of there. Davide had not even bothered to come to the meeting with Hector. I knew there was nothing he could have said but him being there would have reassured me somewhat. I knew what this meant. He was done with me. And if I hadn’t enjoyed sleeping with him so much, I would have realized he’d used me. Twice.
But it wasn’t just sleeping with him. I’d fallen in love with him. A total of three weeks together, give or take. Hundreds of hours of getting to know a man who probably never existed. Who showed me what he wanted me to see. But I caught glimpses of the man underneath. I was sure I did. Whatever this was, whatever he was in, it was much bigger and deeper than what he felt for me. And since I was still being truthful to myself, I had to admit that whatever it was had won. He would not choose me. He’d chosen it.
Pedro put me in the back of what seemed like a van and we sped off. I probably should have paid attention to the road, but all I could think about was Davide and what could have been. Soon enough we were pulling to a stop. Pedro removed the blindfold which I was surprised to find soaked with tears. I don’t remember ever crying so much in my life. A clear indication that Davide was not good for me. I’d once read something about relationships that only made you cry, you had to decide whether you were dating a man or an onion.
“I’m sure you’ll find your way to the hotel from here. Pity I didn’t have time to enjoy your sumptuous body, but you look like a repeat offender. You’ll be back with us. And next time I intend to take my time with you.”
God, he gave me the creeps. I couldn’t walk away fast enough. I could hear his laughter as I rounded the corner and made a mental note to forget Davide ever existed. Right.
***
Back in my hotel room, coincidentally the one I’d shared with Davide, I found a one way ticket back to New York marked for the very next day. Hector wasn’t joking when he said he wanted me out of his vicinity. I wasn’t planning to test him any further so I unpacked only what I would wear the next day.
I showered and decided against leaving the hotel room. I was going to lock myself in my room and count the hours till my flight. The hours, as if to mock me, moved in slow motion. I was already going out of my mind when there was a knock on the door. I opened it but there was no one there. The hallway was empty so I assumed they had the wrong door until a white envelope caught my eye.
It bore only the hotel logo and my name at the center. I opened it with trepidation only to find four words written on it.
Wherever you will go.
I panicked. Was this hector’s way of warning me that he would find me anywhere and everywhere? I’d already taken his threat to heart. He needn’t have gone through the trouble. Heart beating miles a minute, I banged the door closed and sat on the bed chewing the nail on my thumb.
I should have spoken to Hector. Promised him that I would keep my end of the bargain. Said something! Standing there like a mute while he issued his threat was stupid. I should have reassured him that I would never ever step foot in Barcelona again. I started pacing the floor unsure as to whether I should respond to let him know that I would keep my side of the bargain.
Settling on the side of th
e bed, I called the front desk.
“Buenas Tardes. A white envelope was delivered to my door with no return address or name of sender. Is there any way I can find out who it was?”
“That’s not possible Señorita. We always deliver notes by hand.”
“Maybe whoever got the note forgot hotel policy?”
“I’m sorry madam. You can always bring it down and we can try to make sense of it.”
And have people chasing down Hector? No thank you. “Maybe I was mistaken. Thank you anyhow,” I said and hung up. How odd. Now that I thought about it, it was kind of strange that Hector would go through the trouble and risk the note falling into the wrong hands. It was not identifiable of course but he didn’t seem like the kind of guy who exposed himself unnecessarily.
Mulling this over, I called for room service and flipped through channels, one telenovela after another. Bored and nowhere closer to deciphering the message, I decided to take a nap. Maybe the time would move faster if I slept.
It had been a beautiful day. We’d spent it exploring Cataluña, driving from Barcelona through the coast to Cadaqués where we stopped for some tapas and sightseeing. Then to Puigcerdà, past La Seu d'Urgell and all the way to Vielha in the mountains. He’d booked a room at the Parador de Vielha where we had the most breathtaking view of the mountains. I’d initially wondered why he’d chosen Vielha, it wasn’t a happening town. But as soon as I saw where we’d be staying, I understood it immediately.
The interior of the Parador hotel was a sight to behold but the exterior was what took my breath away. Picturesque rolling hills that one could see from the hotel room but even more beautiful from the infinity pool on the roof. This was heaven, and I loved that I would be sharing it with him.
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